“Fine, I’m a quitter. I failed as a villain, so I stopped trying. Now I failed as a hero, so I’m giving up on that, too. Is that what you want to hear?”
“The way I remember it, Vilmore offered you a full-ride scholarship and you turned it down.”
“That doesn’t count. They rejected my application, because I wasn’t villainous enough, and they only offered me admission and the scholarship after I saved everyone at Homecoming. Which was more heroic than villainous.”
“You were looking out for villains. Most heroes wouldn’t do that. And what they liked about you was your bravery and your willingness to act.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. I met a member of the admissions board through the Truth. He complimented me on having such an amazing grandson.”
Fine, so maybe he does know. “It doesn’t matter. Because I’m not any of those things anymore.”
“I don’t buy that. And my point was that you didn’t fail as a villain. You could have gone to Vilmore. You could have had a place with me, too, but you turned it all down. To be a hero. To be around people who don’t understand you. Who are always going to see you as some kind of wild card because of where you come from.”
“And because I blew up part of the gym.” Among other things.
“You chose to be a hero. You chose to go to that school. And you put up with a hell of a lot to make that happen. But now you’re out.”
“Yep.”
“And you don’t care if the whole city’s terrified of that fear ray. Villains, heroes, and everyone else alike—they’re all scared out of their minds that Frank’s going to use it. And maybe Frank hasn’t, but I can guarantee you that whoever buys it at that auction tonight will. They’ll pay a lot of money for it, and they’ll make good use of it, and there won’t be a damn thing anyone else can do about it.”
“That’s not true. Someone will stop them.” Somebody else, who knows what they’re doing.
“Maybe. But probably not before a lot of damage gets done.”
“This city is crawling with heroes, Grandpa. It doesn’t need me screwing everything up. If you’re really worried about the fear ray getting into the wrong hands, then tell someone else.”
“I’m not going running to some hero. And I’m sure as hell not telling them about a secret villain auction.”
“But you’re telling me about it. Obviously you don’t see me as a hero. And you’ve got plenty of people who work for you. You could get someone you trust to do this.”
“I trust you, Damien. And the point wasn’t that I’m scared of what might happen after this auction takes place. The point was that I thought you’d want to finish what you started.”
“I am finishing it. By doing what I should have done in the first place and staying the hell out of it.”
Mom looks really surprised to see me when she answers her door.
Which is understandable, since I’m kind of surprised to be here. I’d planned on going home after I left Grandma and Grandpa’s house. To go home and maybe listen to loud music and hide under my covers so I could try and forget how disappointed in me Grandpa sounded.
Grandpa, who hated that I was a hero and that I went to Heroesworth, was actually disappointed in me for quitting. Of everyone in, like, the entire universe, I would have thought he’d be the last person to feel that way. Okay, second to last, since I’m sure Mom really doesn’t care that I quit. Actually, she’s probably happy about it, or she will be when I tell her, and I can just picture the smug I-told-you-so look on her face.
“Damien,” Mom says, “what are you doing here?”
“Can’t I just stop by?”
She sighs, sounding annoyed, and moves out of the way so I can follow her inside. “I wish you’d called first. The house is a mess.”
The house was always a mess when I lived here. Way worse than it looks now. Except now she doesn’t want me to see it, like I’m a stranger instead of her own kid. The thought leaves a bitter taste in the back of my mouth.
“Taylor took Xavier to the park, and I only have a few minutes to myself. Minutes. You can’t believe what it’s like! So you’re going to have to make this quick. And if this is about what I saw on the news, you should know there’s nothing I can do about that fear ray. I didn’t invent it—I don’t know how to stop it.”
“It’s not about that.”
She looks me over. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, like try to get it back, are you?”
“No, I’m not.”
She closes her eyes for a second and lets out a deep breath, relieved. “Good.”
“Like you care.” The words just come out, bitter and angry, even though I didn’t mean to say them.
Her mouth twists into a scowl. “Damien, of course I care.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“I don’t know what you came here for, but I don’t have time for this.”
“You made me afraid to fly.”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, not this again.”
“You ruined my life!”
“Damien, don’t be so dramatic. I did not ruin your life. This is why I’m glad my little Xavier sweetiekins isn’t a teenager yet. You have no control over your emotions.”
“Seriously?! I’m not the one with no control!”
“See, there you go again, having some kind of outburst.” She waves her hand.
“He’s not even here—you don’t have to suck up to him. And if he’s not a teenager now, he will be in, what, a few days? Because you won’t stop messing him up, just like you did with me!”
“I’m not messing him up. I’m only doing what’s in his best interest.”
“In your best interest, you mean.”
“And you should thank me, for what I did for you.”
I clench my fists. Little sparks of lightning run down my arms. “You made me afraid of heights.”
“I made sure you wouldn’t turn out like him.”
“You didn’t even ask me what I wanted!”
“You were too young to know what was good for you.” She gives me a look that says Not much has changed. “And what was I supposed to do, tell you that someday you might grow up and be able to fly? Because your father was a superhero? I couldn’t do that to you.”
“No, instead you let me find out on my sixteenth birthday, in front of hundreds of people. And now I failed the flying test because of you!”
“Well, you still have your lightning.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand that I only have a few minutes of time to myself, and I don’t want to spend them arguing with you. So if you’re done making your little accusations—”
“You’re not listening to me!” She tries to turn away, like she can just dismiss me. I get in front of her. And then I lift off the ground, so that I’m actually flying. Well, hovering a few inches above the floor, but whatever. It still counts.
Especially when she gasps, and her eyes go wide. She’s never seen me fly before. Revulsion flicks across her face, and I don’t like seeing it—it kind of really hurts—but it’s still worth it, to know how much she hates this. That I can fly.
“I could have been a real hero,” I tell her, “if it wasn’t for you. If you hadn’t made me afraid of heights, I would have passed that flying test. I wouldn’t be dropping out of school!” And if I’d passed the test, maybe I wouldn’t have insisted we go inside the abandoned Heroes Hideout on Saturday. Or I at least wouldn’t have insisted we go down those creepy stairs. Maybe Frank still would have stolen the fear ray—she would have found some other way to get to it—but it wouldn’t have been my fault. Or felt like it was, anyway. And Kat and Riley wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and Tristan wouldn’t have had to save us, and the whole city wouldn’t hate me. And… “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have had to quit being a hero!”
“Damien,” Mom says, her voice seething, “feet on the floor while you’re in my house.”
The lasers in her eyes flash, she’s so mad.
I land. I keep glaring at her, though, and I don’t look away. “You ruined my life. Everything would have gone completely differently if you hadn’t done that!”
“I did what I had to in order to protect you. To make sure you grew up right. It’s not my fault you decided you wanted to become some hero.” Her mouth twists on the word. “I’m not the one who put the idea in your head for you to become something you’re not. If you want to blame someone, you can blame your father.”
“But you—”
“And of course you failed as a hero. You can only play make believe for so long.” She shrugs.
I feel worse than if she’d slapped me. My hands start shaking, and lightning burns beneath my skin. “You don’t even know what a hero is.”
“I know I’m not looking at one now. You just told me you’re dropping out. It’s about time, if you ask me. I don’t know what you were even doing at that school. Lying to yourself, I suppose. And if you went to spite me—”
“I went because I wanted to! Me. And you don’t get to tell me that I’m not a hero, because maybe I dropped out, but I still had potential. I could have been one, and you don’t get to tell me who I am! Nobody does, but especially not you!”
She stares at me in shock.
I’m shaking all over, now that I’ve said all that, and I should probably just leave. Because there’s no way she’s going to say anything I want to hear. I’m not even sure what that would be. That she’s sorry? That of course I have hero potential—even she can see it now—and I never should have quit? I just told her she can’t tell me who I am, which is true, so why am I waiting for her to? Especially since we both know the next words that come out of her mouth aren’t going to be anything good.
She starts to say something right as I start to say that I should go. We both stop, then just stand there in awkward silence again. My heart’s pounding, and I want to know what she was going to say. I need to know, even though the chances of it not making everything worse are pretty slim. But she doesn’t look angry right now, and she’s not yelling at me, so maybe—
She opens her mouth again, to say something.
Right as my phone rings.
I think maybe I should just ignore it, like I don’t even hear it, so maybe she’ll go on. But the moment’s ruined, and anyway I’m already reaching for my phone on autopilot.
The screen says Kat’s mom is calling. I was already shaking, but now I feel like I’m going to be sick. Like there’s ice water running down my back. I tell myself it’s probably nothing—Kat probably forgot to charge her phone again and her mom’s just trying to get a hold of her. But as soon as I hear her mom speak, I know that’s not true.
“Hello? Damien?” Kat’s mom says, a tremor of fear in her voice, which is also thick from crying.
“Where’s Kat?” I ask, and I don’t sound anything like myself. I sound like someone who’s terrified to hear the answer to that question.
“She’s in the hospital. We don’t know—” She chokes up, and it’s another agonizing couple of seconds before she can speak again. “We just don’t know what’s going to happen. But you should get down here. And you should hurry.”
Chapter 40
IT TURNS OUT KAT’S been so tired all week because the knife Frank threw at her was coated in poison. The same one that was meant for me. The doctors figured out that it must have been the knife, and that it should have been fatal, except that her shapeshifting ability’s been keeping her alive. It’s been healing her fast enough to keep up with the poison, or at least it was, because now she’s really sick. And the doctors don’t know what the poison was, and they don’t have the antidote, and they have no idea how long she can keep fighting it, since it’s a miracle she’s been able to fight it at all.
Mrs. Wilson tells me all that on the phone as I make my way to the hospital. She says it like she’s had it explained to her a million times, or like she’s had to explain it to other people over and over, until she knows it by heart.
I feel numb. I feel sick and shaky all over. Like my body understands what’s happening, even as my brain keeps going over it, replaying Mrs. Wilson’s words until they don’t mean anything, unable to comprehend the facts.
Kat got poisoned.
Kat’s in the hospital.
Something really bad is happening to her, and she might not make it.
None of that sounds like it can be true. Except when I finally get to the hospital—it only takes me twenty minutes, but it feels like a lifetime—Kat’s really there. She’s lying in a hospital bed, her skin a sickly pale that looks almost green.
Her mom is sitting in the room with her. I don’t see her dad anywhere, but there’s no way he’s not around somewhere.
“Damien’s here,” her mom whispers, squeezing Kat’s hand.
Kat looks over at me. A smile twitches at the edges of her mouth, then fades when she sees the devastation on my face.
Her mom gets up and goes into the hallway, muttering about leaving us alone for a minute and getting a cup of coffee.
“Kat?” She was fine the other day. She was tired, but she was fine. Or at least I thought she was. But I didn’t actually see her. Did she look this pale when I was talking to her on the phone? Did her friends notice?
“It’s going to be okay,” she says, but she sounds weak and tired and not at all like herself, and I’m not sure I believe her.
“They said it was the knife.”
“It’s not your fault.”
There’s a chair on her other side, where her mom was sitting. I should take it, but instead I stay standing, afraid to take my eyes off of her. “It was meant for me.”
She tries to shake her head but stops partway through the movement. “Not your fault,” she mumbles.
I lean in close and take both of her hands in mine. “Kat…” She can’t really be this sick. This can’t really be happening. It feels like it’s happening to somebody else, and at the same time it feels like my heart’s being ripped out, real and painful. Because Kat doesn’t look like someone who’s going to be okay, and the doctors think she shouldn’t have even made it this long. And I can’t imagine losing her. I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without her in it.
I can’t imagine it, but I start to anyway, and then my eyes water, even though I’m trying not to cry. Because crying makes this real, and I don’t want Kat to think I’m giving up on her, like I think she really won’t make it.
But it’s too late, and Kat’s face crumples as she starts crying, too. “I thought I was okay. If I’d gone in sooner—”
“You couldn’t know. It’s okay, Kat.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Damien.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Hot tears slide down my face, but I’d have to let go of her to wipe them off, so I don’t. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. No matter what happens.”
“Don’t say that. You’re going to get better. The doctors are going to figure something out. Just keep fighting it, okay?”
“I’m so tired,” she mutters, her voice barely audible.
“Kat? Did you hear me? You’re going to be okay. I’m… I’m not going to let this happen to you!”
She makes a mmm sound of agreement, but her eyes are closed, and I don’t know if she really heard me.
“Kat?”
But she’s asleep, her breathing deep and even.
There’s a commotion outside the room, and then I hear her dad’s voice. “What the hell is he doing here?! I told you I didn’t want him anywhere near her!”
“He deserves to know what’s going on,” her mom says. “And Kat was asking for him.”
Her dad marches into the room, glaring at me. “Get out. Now.”
“I—”
“She’s here because of you!”
“Tom!” Kat’s mom scolds. “It’s not his fault. And keep your voice down—Kat’s asleep again.”
&nb
sp; “Out.” Her dad grabs my arm and drags me into the hall. “You’re the last thing Kat needs right now. You’re not allowed to see her—do you understand me?”
No, I don’t. I don’t understand any of this. It feels like the whole world’s turning upside down, or maybe like I’m turning inside out. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t— I wouldn’t—” I swallow. “She wasn’t supposed to get hurt.”
“But she did.”
I nod, because it’s true, and because my throat is really tight and there are already tears in my eyes and I don’t trust myself to speak.
“You’re a danger to everyone around you—you always have been—and now we might lose her because of you. So just get the hell out of my sight and don’t come back.”
I call Gordon. Because I’m too freaked out to take the bus. And because I really don’t need people taking pictures of me right now. And if even one person says one word to me about losing that fear ray, I’ll probably end up blasting a hole through the roof. Or worse.
So now I’m in the passenger seat of Gordon’s car. We’re just sitting in the parking lot at the hospital. I tried to explain to him what was going on over the phone, but I’m not sure I even formed full sentences. I think he got the gist of it, though. Kat. Hospital. Me freaking out.
I run my hands through my hair. “I have to go back in. I should go back in.”
“Damien—”
“They didn’t let me ask anything. I hardly got to see her. I can’t just leave. They can’t—”
“They’re not going to let you back in. Her parents don’t want you there.”
“Not her parents, just her dad. And I don’t care what he says because he doesn’t understand. He thinks it’s my fault, and it kind of was, but—” I choke up, pressing my hands to my face as new tears form so Gordon doesn’t see. Not that he can’t already tell. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“I know.” He tries to put a hand on my shoulder, but I pull away.
“I never mean for anything to happen, but it still does. First Riley got hurt, and now Kat, and she was protecting me. Because I did something stupid, and she said she can heal, she said it was okay, but it’s not, because she isn’t. I can’t… She’s going to die, and it’s all my fault.”
The Phobia of Renegade X Page 29